


Watch for the Hoodwink!

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Awkward Sexual Situations, Black Romance, Clubbing, Drug Addiction, F/F, F/M, Humanstuck, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Recreational Drug Use, Schizophrenia, Sexual Content, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Humor, Threesome - F/M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:50:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’m Karkat Vantas. I’m nineteen years old, and I’m moving into an apartment with a Paranoid Schizophrenic, ex-pothead. I spent my days working my fingers to the bone, and listening to my friends complain about their sex lives while continuously being shot down by the girl I’ve loved since high school.</p><p>And this is only the beginning. </p><p>--</p><p>Follow Karkat Vantas, Eridan Ampora, and Dave Strider as they wade their way through the city that never sleeps. In New York City, anything can happen. Especially when you're a nineteen-year-old albino, a twenty-three-year-old politician's son and author to be in love with your childhood friend and fucking her boyfriend, and a nineteen-year-old DJ with a sick pair of shades.</p><p>This is going to be one long night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that's it for the first chapter, I guess! Thanks for reading, guys, and please stay tuned for chapter two! 
> 
> Critique and review is appreciated and encouraged! Especially considering this the first time I've ever written a fanfiction! Hopefully with all of your help, lovely Ao3 users, I can progress as an author and make this fic better and better with every chapter!
> 
> [Extra note: I haven't quite figured out all of this coding and HTML stuff yet, so please be patient! I'm trying to figure out how to get the Pesterchum logs their respective colors, but... I haven't figured it out yet, haha. Soon to be fixed, hopefully!]

My name is Karkat Vantas, and this is me, re-evaluating my life because my decisions have been pretty questionable so far and I’m not exactly sure where I went wrong; but I fucked up pretty bad and I’d like to know where this knot begins before I try to untangle it.

I’m sure future-me is going to hate past me (present me, typing this right now) because, well, I’m a pretty fucking stupid guy. But I guess he can at least give me some credit. I tried.

But anyway. Like I said, I’m Karkat Vantas. I’m nineteen years old, and I’m moving into an apartment with a Paranoid Schizophrenic, ex-pothead. I spent my days working my fingers to the bone, and listening to my friends complain about their sex lives while continuously being shot down by the girl I’ve loved since high school.

And this is only the beginning.

\---

I woke up to a crick in my neck and a draft breezing across my belly.  It’s needless to say, then, that I did not wake up pretty fucking happy.

My head felt flat from laying against the hardwood floor all night, but at least someone had thrown a blanket over me – so even if I had kicked it off and across the room, I wasn’t forgotten about.

On the couch above me, someone snored. A certain someone with dark skin and a mess of black hair, wearing spotted pajama pants and an old, raggy looking tee-shirt. Someone with white paint still crusted around the edges of his face, because God knows he can’t get anything done without my fucking help.

I forced myself off of his floor and to the bathroom to take my first leak of the day. To be honest, I was really getting fucking sick of waking up on his floor. The bastard didn’t even have a bed; he slept on his own couch. So I always ended up on the floor. And with the amount I stayed over, that was pretty often. So as I washed my hands I couldn’t help but to let the thought flutter around my head for a few minutes.

And by flutter, I mean buzz. Like a hive of angry hornets.

I should just move in with the bastard.

When I waltzed back into the living room to stride to the kitchen and raid his pantry for all the cereal it’s worth, I wasn’t expecting him to be awake so early. He normally slept pretty inconsistent hours, but I figured he’d be out like a light for at least half of the day. Especially after the seven hour long feelings jam we had last night.

“What the mother fuck is up, my best friend?”

His voice was similar to a sluggish drawl, sort of throaty and a bit like a growl. He stared at me with a glossy expression on his face, bangs hanging in front of his eyes as he propped himself up against his pillow and tossed the blanket from his torso and into his lap. At least he didn’t look disturbed. I’d take a sleepy, distant Gamzee over a disturbed, panicked Gamzee any day.

“For the amount I fucking sleep here, Gamzee, we should just move in. This is getting to be a pain in the ass. And by ass, I mean my back. Thanks for the scoliosis, fuckass.”

He seemed to ponder by empty insult thoughtfully. Which was weird. Gamzee never did anything thoughtfully. Especially this early in the morning.  Which is why, instead of searching for the cereal I knew he had somewhere in this garbage dump of a kitchen, I eyed him. He didn’t look like the kind of thoughtful someone-you-can’t-see-is-talking-to-me, which was good and becoming less frequent now.

“So why don’t we?”

I stared at him. His words were pretty vague, and he didn’t seem to be insinuating anything that could help me figure it out with context clues. So I snorted, clearing my throat and scratching idly at my collarbone from beneath my turtleneck. I fucking hated winter.

“Don’t we what?”  
“Move in together. Like you said, my brother.”  
I paused, taking a moment to process exactly it was he was saying before I responded.  
“Gamzee, that idea is so fucked up I don’t even think you could use your Schizophrenia as an excuse for it.”  
“Aw, why the fuck not? It’d be fun, bro. We could, like, have late-night feelings jams and roll in the horn pile without havin’ to worry about how you’re gettin’ home in time for work, or whatever the fuck. It’d be sick.” He answered almost right away, as if he had thought about it before.

I mean, it made sense. As fucked up as it was, he was actually making sense. I could make rent. I’d been doing it for a while now. It was rough, having to juggle work and classes, but I had been doing good so far if I do say so myself.

So, long story short, this is how I became room-mates with a formerly marijuana dependent paranoid Schizophrenic with a kink for facepaint, an infatuation with clowns and ICP, and an urge to draw and paint on just about every available surface in the house. It was much like having a four year old child, minus the potty training.

Thank God for the little things, I guess.

\---

**\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering grimAuxiliatrix [GA] --**

**CG:** SO, YEAH. NOW I’M APARTMENT SEARCHING. AND HE’S SITTING NEXT TO ME WATCHING FUCKING DISCOVERY CHANNEL AND EATING MACARONI AND CHEESE.

 **GA:** And Have You Any Idea As How You’re Both Going To Pay Rent And Other Necessary Fees?

 **CG:** STILL WORKING ON THAT. I MEAN, I CAN WORK. I AM WORKING. AND FROM MY UNDERSTANDING HE HAS SOME INHERITANCE FUND, OR SOME SHIT. I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH IS IN IT, BUT HE PROMISED THAT HE’D GO TO THE BANK WITH ME SO WE CAN CHECK AND SEE HOW EXACTLY WE’RE DOING THIS THING. FROM WHAT HE’S SAYING IT SOUNDS LIKE HE HAS A PRETTY NICE CHUNK, THOUGH. SO I WAS THINKING THAT, LIKE, MY PAYCHECK COULD GO TOWARD FOOD AND TRAVEL AND SHIT, AND HIS BANK ACCOUNT COULD PAY THE RENT.

 **GA:** I Suppose That Would Be For The Best. Especially Considering Recent Developments. And, Speaking Of Such, How Has He Been Doing?

 **CG:** OKAY, I GUESS. I MEAN, HE STOPPED SCREAMING AT THE WALLS A FEW DAYS AGO. THAT’S A PLUS. I THINK.

 **CG:** HE STILL SOMETIMES TURNS LIKE SOMEONE’S CALLED HIM, EVEN IF I HAVEN’T. AND SOMETIMES HE’LL MUTTER TO HIMSELF, OR AVOID CERTAIN PARTS OF THE APARTMENT. OR HIDE HIS STUFF SO “THEY” DON’T FIND IT. BUT IT’S BECOMING LESS FREQUENT. I ONLY HAD TO DRAG HIM OUT FROM BEHIND THE CURTAINS TWICE LAST NIGHT. AND HE DIDN’T EVEN PUT UP THAT MUCH OF A STRUGGLE.

 **GA:** A Slow And Steady Process, Then.

 **CG:** YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW THE HALF OF IT. BUT IT’S GETTING BETTER. I HAVE TO TAKE HIM IN TO GO OVER THE DOSAGE AND ALL THAT SHIT SOMETIME THIS WEEK. HIS DOCTOR WANTS TO MAKE SURE HE’S TAKING TO IT WELL AND IT WON’T JUST, LIKE, BUILD UP RESISTANCE IN HIS BODY, OR WHATEVER THE FUCK. THE SIDE EFFECTS ARE WEARING OFF, THOUGH.

 **GA:** Side Effects? Such As… ?

 **CG:** SLEEPING FOR A LONG TIME. TWITCHING. MOODINESS. I DON’T KNOW, NORMAL SIDE EFFECTS THAT COME ALONG WHENEVER SOMEONES PUT ON A NEW MEDICATION? I DIDN’T READ THE LABEL OF THE BOTTLE AND MEMORIZE EVERY FUCKING WARNING ON THAT THING.

 **CG:** MAYBE BEFORE MY NEXT TEST I’LL USE IT TO FUCKING STUDY FROM, THOUGH. SEEMS LIKE A GOOD SOURCE OF SHOWY VOCABULARY I COULD USE TO IMPRESS THE FUCKWADS IN MY CLASS. THEY’D PROBABLY GAPE LIKE FISH OUT OF WATER AND ASK ME FOR MY AUTOGRAPH OR SOMETHING. EVEN IF I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I’M SAYING AND JUST ACT LIKE I DO.

 **GA:** Well, Regardless, It Is Good That You’re There For Him, Karkat. He Needs A Friend. Especially A Friend Who Can, And Has, Helped Him As Much As You Have.

 **CG:** I FIGURED, WHY WOULD I FUCKING GIVE UP AND THROW IN THE TOWEL NOW, AFTER EVERYTHING ELSE I’VE ALREADY DONE? IT WOULD’VE BEEN FUCKING STUPID. SO I MIGHT AS WELL JUST CONTINUE. FUCK IT.

 **GA:** If That Is How You See It, I Suppose It Works. I Wish You Luck On Your Apartment Hunting, Though. I Will Keep An Eye Out For Any Promising Spaces For Rent On My Routes To Work, Class, And Other Destinations.

 **CG:** YEAH, THANKS. I APPRECIATE IT. NOW, IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME, I HAVE A GROWN MAN TUGGING AT MY SLEEVE AND POINTING TO THE TELEVISION FOR SOME REASON. I HAVE A FEELING IT’S GOING TO BE A LONG NIGHT.

 **GA:** Goodnight, Karkat.

 **CG** **:** BYE, KANAYA.

**\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering grimAuxiliatrix [GA] --**

I shut my laptop with a louder-than-necessary crack and sigh, turning toward Gamzee and placing the machine on the nicked coffee table between our couch and the television, which was currently advertising some specials the local CVS or something must’ve cooked up. It looked like one of those sappy, over-personalized pharmacy-type commercials, anyway.

“We have to go tomorrow.”

Oh. So that’s why he was pointing to the television. He was reminding me about his doctor’s appointment.

I… guess that was good of him. It proved he was clear-headed enough to remember important shit, though. Which was good.

“I know. I’m taking you.” I sighed, leaning against the cushions of the couch and running my hands through my hair – tugging loosely at my scalp. A habit I had tried so many times to curb, but was never successful.

He nodded, growing quiet again as he stared into his bowl of macaroni. Which was empty, now. It was good, though. I was glad that he was able to sit still long enough to eat without getting up and pacing, or just falling asleep face-first into the food like he had been for the last few days.

But it’s not like I could get angry with the bastard. It wasn’t his fault the medication took a while to settle in with.

So it was really all I could do to clean him off, let him sleep it off or walk it off, and try again whenever he was somewhat coherent again. Meals had become long processes, and I hoped that tomorrow’s appointment would help clear some things up. Or at least make this routine a bit easier.

But whatever. I guess dealing with Gamzee’s fucked-up head was a good distraction from my own shitty thoughts. Especially with the ones I had been having as of late. At least taking care of him had given me something to do, and something to plan for. I didn’t have much time to mope and feel sorry for myself, which I often did during times like these. I was either working, or getting ready for work. Those were my two modes. The two settings I had been programmed for as of late.

Sometimes, though, I just wondered if she thought of me as much as I thought of her.


	2. Chapter 2

The appointment was not nearly as bad as I was expecting.

I remember belittling myself after scheduling it. Mostly because I had agreed to an 11:00 AM appointment and that was much too early for me to be awake, functioning, and dealing with people’s bullshit. But I guess when you book with a specialist you really don’t have a lot of wiggle room. Which sucks.

But I had Gamzee and myself up, showered, fed and bathed by, like, 10:00. So we had an hour to kill before we had to take the subway over and hop on a bus to reach the hospital. So I decided to do something remotely responsible and we set off early, down the block and to the station.

I decided we might as well check out the bank, first.

It didn’t take that long. The tellers were fast and dealt with bullshit well; which I commended them on with a silent nod of approval and gratitude. We mostly just looked into Gamzee’s accounts. He seemed to have a Savings account, really. And there was a shitton of money in there. I don’t even think he was aware of it.

After asking some questions and looking back through some files, it was determined that the money had indeed been inherited from his father and had been festering and building interest since Gamzee was a little boy running amok in nursery school.

Well, shit.

Speaking of the juggalo-bastard, he seemed pretty distant about it all. He smiled faintly at certain words, almost as if they triggered memories, but otherwise didn’t say much. He hummed agreement to things and occasionally spoke.

I don’t know what kind of relationship he had with his dad, and from what little he had told me in the past the guy wasn’t as bad as the files made him out to be. He cared about his son, at least. Or, a little bit. Enough to stash away a shitton of money for him while he was juggling between public education and juvenile detention centers and psych wards.

Which I guess was thoughtful, but who the fuck was I to judge? Not like my family didn’t have its own… quirks.

After heading to the bank and stopping to get some pretzels, we finally made it to the fucking hospital. I hated hospitals and, by the looks of it, so did Gamzee. The smell was nauseating and the too-bright smiles of people sort of pissed me off in a way that wasn’t my normal pissed off. It was a wonder how I tolerated majoring in medical sciences and planned to work here one of these days.

At least I would be able to liven up the lives of patients with a little good-old-fashioned cynicism and darkness. A taste of reality in the otherwise trippy, acid-coated gumdrops of hospital life and assisted living.

The specialist was kind of weird. He had a bald head and pale skin and wore a pair of too-thickly-framed glasses perched on an old, hooked nose. He was sort of bent over and tired looking but his voice was surprisingly smooth. We mostly listened and answered questions. He filled out a new prescription, and gave some advice. He also gave me at least three handfuls of business cards for therapists, psychologists, and pharmacies.

I thanked him, a little belatedly, as he dismissed us and we were shuffled out of his office, back into the too-sterile hallway.

Gamzee blinked, almost deliriously. I was proud of him, I guess. He had remained level-headed and mostly curse-free the entire time. He hadn’t even honked once. He was truly becoming the master of normal, human manners. Even if his teacher (aka, me) wasn’t the best one out there.

Okay, who was I kidding? Me teaching Gamzee manners of any sort was the exact equivalent to the blind leading the blind and crippled.

Oh, fuck. Cripples.

Speaking of.

The main lobby was relatively crowded when we returned to the ground floor and waltzed past the gift-shop and nurse-station to return to the outside, waking world. We had almost made it to the twin sliding doors plastered with communal notices until someone called out my name, and then Gamzee’s, in a familiar, squeaky voice. Well, not exactly squeaky. More shaky. Almost like he wasn’t quite sure if he was allowed to talk, but wanted to anyway. Like he was trying too hard to please someone. Or himself.

Anyway, I recognized it as the voice of Tavros Nitram.

Don’t get me wrong. Tavros was always a nice guy. He was usually smiling and had a somewhat bright attitude for a guy who had been crippled in some devastating childhood accident involving a car and the local con-artist, AKA his crush since elementary school. He came from a bigass Spanish family, spoke with a bit of an accent, and tried to appear tougher by decorating his face with piercings and shaving his head into a Mohawk. Mostly, it just made him look a bit out of place. But I gave him credit for trying, I guess.

I also had to give him credit for the massive fucking biceps and deltoids he had. Dude was fucking ripped. But I guess that’s what happens when you wheel yourself around everywhere.

Anyway, it was weird seeing him in scrubs. And with a clipboard on his lap. He wheeled himself over and promptly exclaimed how happy he was to see us since graduation. Gamzee smiled, a bit glossily, but we spoke none the less.

“What are you two doing here? Are you visiting someone?”

It wasn’t that weird of a question. Especially when you see two former classmates, one the local pothead and the other a ticking time-bomb for a brain aneurism, in a hospital this early in the morning. But then again, it wasn’t morning any more. It was probably well past noon, and my grumbling stomach could happily attest to that.

I shook my head and jabbed a thumb in Gamzee’s direction. “We’re here for him. Needed a new prescription from that specialist who’s in town.”

Tavros seemed to contemplate for a moment, before something finally clicked in his head. “ _Ohh._ ”

Thankfully, he didn’t ask anything too weird after that. I guess he had been working here long enough to know about the specialist and what we must’ve been there for. He observed Gamzee closely for a moment, before frowning a bit. It sort of pissed me off how we were talking about him like he wasn’t there; but in a sense he wasn’t. In fact, since greeting Tavros, Gamzee hadn’t said a single word. He just smiled absently and occasionally nodded. Or jerked his head to stay awake. I wasn’t sure which.

“Schizophrenia,” was all I had to say, and Tav stopped questioning. He seemed to accept it with relative ease, which was a relief. He also didn’t ask about the pot, which I was silently grateful for and hoped it showed in my eyes. Because I doubted Gamzee would be terribly compliant if we discussed his substance abuse out in the open. Especially with an old classmate who may or may not have been close with him.

“I’m glad you’re getting help then, Gamzee! No shame in that!” Tav was annoyingly cheerful about it as he fist-bumped a somewhat delirious Gamzee, who chuckled beneath his facepaint and honk’d good-naturedly toward our peer. Tavros smiled and turned to me again, nodding a bit.

“You really are a good friend, Karkat. Maybe one day all three of us can hang out or something! Drinks on me. We can chat over Pesterchum about it, maybe.” He paused, as if considering something. “If you two still use Pesterchum…?”

“Yeah. We do.” And I knew Tavros did because he sometimes popped up as online from time to time. I remember having to add him to my friends list in sophomore year when we were paired together for a geography project and had to send powerpoints and other files back and forth.

“Sweet. Well, I should probably get back to work before my boss rips me a new one! I’m just interning here, so I need to not step- eh, _roll_ over anyone’s toes!” He laughed a bit as his own joke, and I smiled, because if you had a disability, it was probably better to laugh about it with friends than mope about it like he did for a lot of middle and high school, when his self confidence was lower than mine. Which was really saying something.

“Bye, Tavros,” I called and turned, and I vaguely heard over my shoulder Gamzee saying something to Tavros and Tavros laughing before the gangly clown made his way behind me and followed me out the doors. He smiled to himself as we walked shoulder-in-shoulder, and hummed some song I didn’t know but would probably hear a lot about from now on.

He seemed a bit happier. Which was good, I guess. But it was also a random outburst of happiness and sometimes, that kind of happiness is hard to trust.

\---

Deciding that my stomach should be rewarded for its patience, I dragged Gamzee into a local café and sat him down in a back booth so I could go get us something to eat. By the time I got back with sandwiches and drinks and snacks, he was staring out the window and drawing shapes on the table with his fingernails. Clearing my throat loudly, I slammed the tray down between us and began dividing up the food.

Before I began to eat my own lunch of assorted deli meats, breads, sauces, and sides like chips or french fries, I pulled out my phone and slammed a text message out to the one and only vampire fashion queen of the Goth underground, aka, Kanaya Maryam.

I demanded, in the most affectionate of ways only shared between two friends, that she meet Gamzee and I right this instant at this little café so we could talk. Nothing important. Just updates on Gamzee’ meds and the gossip from seeing Tavros earlier. I figured she’d like to hear about the kid. After all, she seemed to have a vested interest in his disability in high school. I’m not sure if it was out of pity or not, though. I never asked and I don’t think I really cared – or would care, even now – to hear the answer.

She showed up about fifteen minutes later and slid into the booth next to Gamzee. She was lucky she showed up somewhat later and we were done eating, or else she probably would’ve had to worn a hazmat suit. We were hungry and crumbs were flying. That’s all for my comment on daily meal-times with Gamzee and Karkat. Stay tuned for more at eleven, kids.

“We saw Tav today.” I slurped from behind the straw of my drink, glancing at Gamzee as he fell into another daydream staring out the window at the passing traffic and hoards of people.

“Oh, really?” she inquired, looking more or less interested. Maybe mildly. I don’t know. She was hard to read sometimes. She rested her chin in her palm and gazed at me, however. At least she gave me her full attention, even if she wasn’t interested.

“Yeah. He’s interning at the hospital Gamzee’s specialist is at. Nothing big. We mostly just exchanged some bullshit smalltalk.” I scoffed, making my distaste for social interactions well known.

“That’s nice. Perhaps one day he can tag along on one of your adventures with Gamzee. As I recall, the two were relatively close in high school,” she pointed out, turning to Gamzee for silent confirmation.

It took him a bit, but Gamzee responded with a bit of a drawl and a lot of a smile. “Hell yeah. Tav-bro was awesome. Really friendly. Always droppin’ sick fires and fast beats.” He grinned again, as if recalling a memory. Kanaya nodded and turned back to me, shrugging a bit as if to say _‘I told you so.’_

I shrugged in return, not particularly caring. “Yeah, probably. Maybe when we finally have living arrangements settled.”

“Speaking of which-“ She cut me off, hoisting her bag into her lap and digging through it to hand me some papers. “I found a loft that’s renting only a few blocks away from my own apartment. It’s within a relatively reasonable traveling time for your university. I suggest you take the look. The owner is an older man who seems like he wouldn’t mind compromising for a rent figure.”

I took the papers, going through them with wandering eyes and reading over some of the details, glancing over the phone number before shoving them into my hoodie’s inside-pocket alongside Gamzee’s prescription and the business cards.

“Fuckin’ sick. Thanks, Kanaya. You saved me one hell’uva headache.” It was really the most friendly sentence I could construct to show her my gratitude, but it seemed to please her and she smiled so we stopped at that because awkward pleasantries were never really my thing.

It was then that Gamzee cut in with a bit of a laugh. “Then I could even hang with you, Kanaya. On days where Karbro here is working, or somethin’.” He nudged her in the shoulder with his elbow, grinning. Kanaya, in turn, smiled and returned the nudge in a friendly manner. I don’t know how she put up with Gamzee but managed to keep a professional image to herself. It was one of life’s mysteries, I guess.

“I think that would be very nice, Gamzee. Perhaps sooner than we think, even.”

I sighed and turned to face the window as the two of them dissolved into a conversation of their own.

I hated math. But I guess I’d have to do some number-counting and figure-tallying in order to set this move up.

This had better be worth the migraine it would cause me for the next few weeks, and probably even longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp! That's all by Karkat for now. He'll come back soon! Next chapter we're switching to someone else's point of view! Thank you all for sticking with me. I still haven't managed to figure out the HTML yet, but I'm slowly getting there! As always I appreciate reviews and comments. I'm looking to grow as an author through this fanfiction and hopefully make each chapter better than the last!


	3. Chapter 3

I couldn’t believe it.

I couldn’t believe that after so many years of friendship and secret longing, she didn’t even care about me.

Maybe that’s unfair. She did care about me – she said so, anyway. But she didn’t care about me like I wanted her to, or like how I cared about her.

I can’t believe I couldn’t see it. After being such close friends for so many years, how could I not notice the subtle shift in her behavior? Or how her eyes always lit up when she spoke of… when she spoke of _him_.

I hated him, and I had barely even talked to the man.

Or, boy, really. He was so much younger than she and I. Fresh out of high school, with a full scholarship to MIT, or something.

I couldn’t help but to be angry at myself for remembering that. For remembering the bastard’s accomplishments.

I didn’t care if he was mother-fucking _Bill Gates_! He didn’t deserve her!

He’s not the one who grew up with her, and helped her through the times of her life when her mother’s overbearing expectations broke her. He’s not the one who protected her in playground scuffles when her honor was questioned. He’s not the one who loyally helped her fulfill her mother’s expectations. He didn’t put in any of the time or work! It simply wasn’t fair!

So for the life of me, I can’t understand why she would want to spend all of her time with him.

“Sorry, Eridan! I’m going to the movies with Sollux tonight! Maybe tomorrow?”  
“Oh, man, Eridan! You have bad timing! I was just about to run out the door! Sollux is picking me up for dinner! I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”  
“Sorry, Eridan! I can’t hang out today. I promised Sollux we’d hang out at his place! Maybe some other time, okay?”

I was so fucking sick of hearing her excuses! Suddenly this new guy comes along and it’s perfectly acceptable for her to drop her friend of God-knows-how-long for this lanky, scrawny, mutant hacker kid!? So who gives a flying fuck if his eyes were two different colors!? Big whoop! Kar was albino! You don’t see him taking advantage of that to steal people’s friends!

I was so fucking pissed. I am fucking pissed. It’s not fair. I deserve better than this. Than this awkward, brush-aside, off-handed, indirect deceit. I had to complain to someone. I needed to blow off some steam.

Logging into Pesterchum proved to be relatively fruitless. There was nobody online! Not even Kar or Kanaya. And Kar was usually always online, even if it was set to mobile for his phone.

Wait.

I could…

Was it worth it? Was I really that upset? Upset enough to Pester _her_ of all people. Given, she probably didn’t give a flying fuck. But still. I needed to talk to somebody. And she was the only person online…

**\-- caligulasAquarium[CA] began pestering arachanidsGrip[AG] –**

**CA:** listen i knoww you dont care about me or wwhat i do but i really need someone to talk to right noww so sit down and fuckin listen for a minute  
  
 **CA:** i really fucked up this time like an evven bigger fuck-up than the one you and i had  
 **  
AG:** Something I don't dou8t for a minute.  
  
 **CA:** cut the attitude for like fivve seconds wwould you  
  
 **AG:** Whatever. Continue, I guess.  
  
 **CA:** fef hates me noww

 **CA:** i mean she nevver said that but shes alwways wwith this neww sollux loser and its drivvin me up a fuckin wwall you knoww i dont deservve this shit after evverythin ivve done for her

 **CA:** after evverythin wwevve been though together

 **CA:** and it feels pike she doesnt care aboat me at all any more an is just too nice or polite to say anythin about it so shes sort of awwkwwardly avvoidin the topic altogether

 **CA:** and i dont need or wwant advvice i just need someone to listen to me for like ten minutes

 **AG:** So you have 8 minutes left 8efore times up. Go.

 **CA:** wwait seriously

 **CA:** youre goin to listen to me

 **CA:** evven after all this time

 **AG:** You're really 8eginning to 8oooooooore me here. I thought you had something interesting to talk a8out…….. Some gossip, may8e. :::;)

 **CA:** oh fuck you

 **CA:** my feelings are wworth more than petty gossip thats just sick

 **AG:** Whatever, fish 8oy, you're the one who c8me to me, not the other way around. *I* don't need you........ You need me.

 **CA:** sometimes i really doubt the fact that you evven havve an emotional bone in your body like seriously cant you evver just stop bein a ragin beach for like fivve minutes and help a friend out wwithout expectin anythin in return

 **AG:** Let me think a8out it.

 **AG:** ........

 **AG:** No.

 **AG** : >:::;)

**\-- arachanidsGrip[AG] has ceased pestering caligulasAquarium[CA] –**

Well. I really wasn’t sure what I was expecting to get out of that conversation.

I guess it’s my own fault, in a way. How the fuck could I ever expect anything more than a raging bitch out of her? There’s a reason we’re exes, anyway.

Whatever. Fuck her. I don’t need her. Or Fef. I don’t need anyone!

I’m Eridan fucking Ampora! Son of one of New York City’s most important politicians! I didn’t need anyone’s permission to do what I want, when I want, to whoever I want! I could go out and have the ladies crawling all over me! I could take back eight – no, wait, seven (just to piss that dumb, raging bitch off) – and bring them to my apartment and just do whatever the fuck I want! And I wouldn’t even have to pay them! _They’d_ pay _me!_ That’s just how great I am! They’ll see. They’ll all see!

Sighing, I leaned back in my computer chair and clasped the heels of my palms over my eyes. Oh, who was I kidding? I was lonely. I was lonely and desperate. I was so desperate, in fact, I had just tried to go to the town’s most notorious con and cheat for relationship problems. It was sickening. Someone like me going to someone like her for a friend to talk to. Is that really how low I’d sunk? It was despicable. I really needed some new fucking friends.

I mean, Kar was great. He might’ve been a fucking freak of nature with that snow-white hair and red-as-blood eyes, but at least he would listen to me. But I couldn’t always count on some albino college freshman to be there to listen to me and my problems. I needed someone who knew what they were doing and had their shit together enough to actually help me.

Kanaya was my second best bet, I guess. But she sort of hated me on and off. In fact, I don’t know how I’d describe my relationship with her. There were some days where she seemed as if she was my friend, and others when she seemed to just downright hate me.

I missed Fef. I missed the old Fef. The little girl I grew up with who loved animals and the aquarium and visiting the multicolored cuttlefish all in that giant tank next to the seahorse exhibit I loved so much. I missed the Fef who would listen to me bitch and moan and would help me.

But that Fef was gone. She was replaced. She had been changed by this Sollux guy. He turned her against me. He turned my best friend against me and had her eating out the palm of his hand. And he was probably planning on just taking advantage of her!

I couldn’t let that happen. I _wouldn’t_ let that happen. Nobody takes advantage of Feferi Peixes while I prowl the streets!

I would find a way to get rid of this kid once and for all and win back Fef. And maybe my heroics would even earn me her heart!

All I needed to do was find a way… find a way to draw her away from his clutches…

It looked like I would be needing to speak with that raging spider bitch again. If only because her plans and schemes were the best in the book. She wouldn’t help me for free; I wasn’t stupid enough to assume that. But for a price, she’d plan with me… maybe for an extra fee, she’d even take care of the problem for me directly.

Nothing dirty. I couldn’t afford something like that. I doubted the bitch was willing to get her hands that dirty, either. Just… make him disappear. Get him out of the city and away from Fef. Maybe shuttle him into the suburbs of Long Island, or the little towns upstate.

Yeah, that would be perfect… that would be all I needed to win back my Feferi!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, man! This chapter was super hard to write. Mostly because I was so paranoid about messing up Eridan's characerization! I hope you all think it's not that out of character. Remember: He's not always going to be this whiny, haha! He's just really hurt right now, and I tried to make that pretty known. It's also a bit of a play on how much of a drama queen he could be! I hope you all find this chapter satisfactory though.
> 
> Sorry it took so long to update, too! Other than the obvious issues I had with Eridan's characterization, Homestuck updated twice the other day! And I had a mental breakdown because of how excited I am that the Beta kids and trolls are coming back! Karkat's little purple crab communicator and Terezi's boxers omfg<3333
> 
> Haha, okay, enough of that! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Please critique and review!
> 
> (P.S. - I still haven't figured out the html formatting for the colors and all that for Pesterlogs. If someone could pleaseee help me out with that, it would be well appreciated! Please and thank you!)


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, so maybe I was too harsh.

Running a teenage boy out of the city because my best friend was interested in him was childish. But whatever, everybody can have their moment of weakness! And I had mine, so that was that.

But still. I needed to talk to Fef. Maybe if she finally knew how I felt? Maybe then she would consider me, and realize her little crush on this barely-a-man was no more than some phase. After all, television shows commonly expressed that women sometimes fell for younger guys to make themselves feel younger, right?

Not that Fef was old. Twenty-four was no-where near old. But whatever, it was really my only explanation for her behavior. It made more sense than anything else, anyway. So I was sticking to it.

I spent most of the day wandering about my apartment, uselessly fixing things and straightening up. I really didn’t need to; after all, the cleaning ladies had only come two days ago. Everything was still clean, and nothing was particularly out of place, I guess. Everything was normal. My possessions rarely left their designated spots, wherever those spots happened to be. I was just fidgeting and nitpicking and I knew that, but I allowed myself to indulge in the nervous habit for some time before finally putting my foot down.

Finally, I settled in on my leather couch, laptop tucked under my arm as I turned on the television for background noise. Logging in, I looked through my contacts on Pesterchum. Kar was online, but set as mobile. I’d probably talk to him, later. It took me several seconds to work up the courage, but I eventually just caved and told myself to get over it already and message her first, goddammit.

So that’s what I did.

**\-- caligulasAquarium[CA] began pestering cuttlefishCuller[CC] –**

**CA:** hey fef do you have a minute to talk

**CC:** Oh, ) (i Eridan! Of course I do! Your timing is better t) (an yesterday, today!!!

**CA:** haha cool. but theres somethin important ivve been wwantin to talk to you about

**CC:** Really? 38O

**CC:** T) (at’s pretty funny, because I want to tell you somet)(ing, too, -Eridan!

**CA:** really? wwell you can go first then

**CC:** Okay!

**CC:** W-ELL, I'm sure you’ve noticed ) (ow muc) ( time I’ve been spending with Sollux

**CC:** and regardless of w) (at you’ve been saying, -Eridan, ) (e’s a really great guy! ) (e’s really funny and smart and ) (e loves to listen!

**CC:** So last night, ) (e and I sort of… had a talk, I guess

**CC:** and after talking for a w) (ile and sort of t) (inking t) (ings t) (roug) (, we decided to make it official, I guess!

**CC:** Basically, w) (at I'm trying to say, -Eridan, is t) (at Sollux and I are boyfriend and girlfriend now! And I ) (ope you don’t mind, because I know you don’t like ) (im much, but I'm sure that if you just give ) (im a c) (ance, you two can get along GR-EAT!

My eyes widened as I read the words on my screen, that little line blinking as it awaited my message to be typed. But I couldn’t come up with anything. Nothing. I was genuinely… speechless.

Feferi was going out with Sollux.

Feferi Peixes was going out with Sollux Captor.

My Feferi. My childhood best friend, the secret love of my life. Was going out with. Sollux Captor. Nineteen-year-old high school graduate who sat on a computer almost every day of his life and wore those dumb, _ugly_ blue-and-red-glasses…

I felt like I needed to scream.

**CC:** -Eridan? You t) (ere?

I couldn’t leave her hanging. I couldn’t do that to Fef. She seemed too happy and I didn’t… didn’t want to ruin that for her. Even if I hated that stupid fucking Sollux.

**CA:** haha yeah, sorry, i got distracted

**CA:** but wwoww, fef, i,

**CA:** i wwasnt expecting that

**CC:** Sorry if it was sort of out of t) (e blue! I just wanted you to be t) (e first to know.

Oh, god. I was the first to know. Great. She shows so much fucking trust in me and all I can do in return is get angry at her. Fuck.

**CC:** So anyway, -Eridan! W) (at was it you wanted to tell me?

**CA:** huh? oh, nothin

**CA:** it wwasnt evven that important i forgot it already

**CC:** HMM… Well, if you're sure.. !

I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t tell her. Not now. Not after what she told me. That was wrong and it would make everything twenty times more awkward than it would’ve been, even if she wasn’t going out with Sollux.

**CA:** yeah im sure haha

**CC:** Okay, good!!!

I don’t even really remember what we talked about after that. Some stupid, filler stuff. About how her classes were going and this new little café she found a few blocks away from her apartment that had awesome pitas or something. I was sort of numb, pecking away at my keyboard mindlessly, agreeing with her and answering questions blindly. I didn’t really contribute much to the conversation, looking back on it. But I apparently contributed enough that she wasn’t suspicious.

Even after she signed off – something about completing a paper for one of her classes before dinner, or something – I couldn’t bring myself to exit from the chat. I scrolled up, re-reading what she had said over and over to myself.

Mouthing the words.

Hoping I would choke on them.

Feferi Peixes was going out with Sollux Captor.

And Eridan Ampora didn’t have a chance in the world.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So, I'm sorry for this being so late, guys! My muse ran away from me for a while there over the break. I managed to get this out, though! I hope this will suffice. 
> 
> Also, I know this is going to sound like another excuse - but after looking over suggested tutorials and resource websites, I still cannot figure out Pesterlog coding. I'm really, really sorry guys. I literally just have no idea what I'm doing. I'm going to take a breather and sit back and try again tomorrow, or maybe another day - but I can't promise anything.  
> (This is the girl who spent an hour and a half trying to figure out how to get fandom scarves on her blog. I am at that level of pathetic.)  
> I'm sorry.


	5. Chapter 5

Life is good when you’re a Strider.

Life is even better when you’re Dave Strider, like me.

If you are Dave Strider, like me, then your day probably began at around six o’ clock at night. Because normal routines are for suckers, and Striders are not suckers.

I normally get up a few minutes early so I can bullshit. I eat, I putter around the apartment, I get my clean on. I decide to get dressed - and by get dressed, I mean, throw on whatever smells cleanest.

The biggest deal is getting my shit together. ‘Gotta pack everything nice and neat, so nothing bumps and cracks or breaks.

Oh, shit. Wait.

I should probably explain what the fuck I’m doing.

Alright, cool.

You see, in the Strider household, we are borderline nocturnal. I work as the local club’s handsome DJ, and my bro Dirk does random oddjobs and runs some sort of weird puppet-porn site. Whatever. Striders don’t judge.

With jobs like that, the last thing we do is live a nine-to-five existence. My day begins when other people are settling in for the night, and ends just as the sun rises.

Man, I am fuckin’ poetic.

Anyway. At around eight I get my shit together. The club has Turntables, yeah, but I like to bring my own shit. Props. Gloves. Cleaning equipment. Tracks. The works.

I sling my bag over my shoulder, pocket my wallet, and lock the door on the way out.

Look out world: Dave Strider is on the loose.

\---

Walking to the club is no big deal. It takes me around fifteen minutes, as long as I take the shortcut through the alleyway bordered by the back of a Chinese-food-place and some Jewish deli. I have to be careful to avoid the scraps left out for rats.

Now, if you’ve ever heard Kesha’s “Take it Off”, you probably know the part of the song where she sings about a hole-in-the-wall place for freaks.

Slickpaint’s is exactly that.

The club looks shotty from the outside. It’s windows are poster-covered, advertising their bands and hours and happy hour and all that bullshit. There’s also the obligatory signs about no loitering, and no drinking under twenty-one, and yada yada yada. As if anyone actually obeys them.

But heading inside, it’s a lot bigger.

I’ve always liked Slickpaint’s. It’s big on the inside and opens up into a massive dance-floor. My station was at the very back of the room, toward the bathrooms and emergency exits – the DJ stand was situated directly between the two. To my left, the bar. To my right, booths and tables and some more dancefloor.

The club was nice when it was packed – mostly because of the potential income of tips – but it was also nice when it was quiet, before the crowds rushed in, when everyone was still setting up.

Speaking of everyone, I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of the door slamming shut.

“Hey, kid.” I turned to face the door behind the bar, coming face-to-face with a grinning Roxy. “Nice to see you around these parts.” She giggled, setting down several glass cups with care, pulling a rag from underneath the counter.

“Sup, Rox?” I greeted, making my way across the room and toward the DJ station, beginning to unload my own possessions.

“Not much. Still waiting on Jake – he normally always just gets here by the skin of his teeth, right before we open. If he wasn’t such a good bouncer I’m sure boss-o would’ve fired him months ago.” She rolled her eyes, polishing the glasses laid out in front of her with the rag. She must’ve gotten here a half an hour before me, or something, because most of her shit for the night was already set-up. Girl knew how to take care of business when she wanted to, alright.

I chuckled, inspecting some of the gear and beginning to tinker with the settings and knobs and levers on my Turntables. “S’all good, though. He manages to get here eventually.”

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Roxy shrug, grinning.

A comfortable silence fell after that.

To be honest, Roxy was closer with my brother than with me. As far as I knew, they were probably something along the lines of best friends. Maybe that’s why she was always so nice and friendly with me. Either way, I didn’t mind. She was a good person to talk to, but she knew when to appreciate a companionable silence. Personally, I liked not-awkward silences better than conversations, anyway.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. Because probably fifteen minutes later, the familiar pant-call-greeting of Jake sounded from the front door, and Roxy nearly broke a glass because _jesus Christ there is no reason to slam a door that loud, no I don’t care which car was apparently following you down the street **this** week-_

-Welcome to a day in my life, kiddies. Stay tuned for more on the story at eleven. Strider, out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you were all waiting for everybody's favorite Strider! Haha. With a cameo from his little group!
> 
> The next chapter is going to have a lot of characters being introduced. Just a head's up! You'll be hearing more from Roxy and Jake as well, too! Sit tight, everybody! Once the introductions are basically over, the real fun begins. I get to tackle the plotlines, then!


End file.
